


Road Trip (With an Empress and Santa)

by MuffinOfVillainyAndDoom



Series: KotFE - The Smuggler [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Irresponsible use of the Force, Lana for Empress 2016, Lana is turning into an alcoholic, Poor Lana, Santa Claus?, Valkorion is Not Amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinOfVillainyAndDoom/pseuds/MuffinOfVillainyAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventurous Outlander sneaks away for a chance to unwind and relax far from the Alliance as Valkorion is steadily driven ever closer to homicidal rage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip (With an Empress and Santa)

Finally managing to ditch everyone else on Odessen, the Outlander flew through space ready to go on a good old fashioned smuggling adventure. None of this saving the galaxy nonsense.

Yes, just her, her beloved ship, her illegal cargo, and wide open space on the horizon.

And Valkorion.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be a buzzkill for this trip. He offered power, she accepted, awesome happened.

Speaking of which…

“Force leap!” The smuggler cried dramatically, arm raised at the ceiling.

Nothing happened.

“Valkorion…” she said warningly.

“There is a ladder.”

She stared at him.

Valkorion pointed at said ladder, two feet from her. “Right there.”

“Only losers climb ladders, Valkorion,” whined the power-crazed smuggler. “Winners _leap_.”

“Then go ahead and jump at the ladder. Face first if you will.”

“You can’t fool me. You, sir, are a troll.”

Eyebrow raised, Valkorion replied in a wry tone, “Am I?”

“Well I _did_ hear you cackling after Senya’s Big Reveal.”

Valkorion sniffed disdainfully like the upper class douche the smuggler always knew he was. “I do not _cackle_.”

“Your conversations with Valkorion are always so strange to listen to.”

The smuggler startled, “Lana! What are you doing here?”

She glanced accusingly at the silent and irritatingly smug apparition.

“Through the Force I saw your plan to sneak away and so I stowed aboard.”

“Right,” said the smuggler, “If only I could detect you… or was possessed by someone who could.” She glared at Valkorion who stared back unrepentant.

“World devourer,” Lana reminded her, “Body snatcher.”

The smuggler looked at her curiously. “Personally I prefer zombie horrors, but sure, we can stop for a few holos.”

Lana facepalmed.

“One of this days,” the Sith growled, taking a threatening step towards the Outlander.

Better nip this in the bud before Lana got onto one of her anti-Valkorion rants again. They lasted hours and the smuggler actually caught the usually calm and pragmatic Sith making a holocron of one of them in secret (likely so future generations can look back on galactic history and know what an ass the disembodied Emperor was).

Thus our intrepid Outlander turned and sprinted for the fully stocked bar, forcing Lana to follow her.

“You know you’d make a great Empress of the Galaxy,” flattered the smuggler as she poured them both a drink.

It worked, Lana soften slightly. “I would wouldn’t I.”

That was actually a good idea; no dealing with this Acina chick. The smuggler was sure she could convince Valkorion to help her make “Lana for Empress” posters, after all what were besties for? She’ll need to track down her glitter…

The smuggler smiled dreamily as visions of her and Valkorion picketing on Korriban danced through her head.

Eventually however she was brought back to reality in time to hear the tail end of Lana’s “Acina is a wart covered witch, really” rant.

“—And who does that woman think she’s fooling with that overly whore-ish smile? I have it on good authority that Acina’s recent undertaking in Sith alchemy left her with hideous deformities under her robes. I kid you not.”

Apparently Lana had helped herself to the entire bottle and then some while the smuggler’s mind was elsewhere.

“What a bitch,” agreed the smuggler, “You totally should’ve made Empress.”

She then grabbed another bottle from storage and hurried to catch up to Lana’s state of inebriation.

It was only after she was half way through her second bottle that the figure skulking in the corner caught her attention.

“Santa,” she called out, squinting blearily at the figure, “Is that you?”

Lana startled. “Where?”

“Nevermind. It’s just Valkorion,” said the smuggler, her vision clearing up enough for her to spot the glare on his face.

“Easy enough mistake to make,” said Lana, in a suspiciously neutral tone. “He sees you when you’re sleeping,” continued the Sith, straight faced. “He knows when you’re awake.”

“He knows if you’ve been bad or good,” the smuggler said sagely.

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” hissed Valkorion.

“So be good for goodness sake,” finished Lana.

There was a quiet moment before they both burst out laughing, Valkorion muttering promises of vengeance in the background.

“Can you imagine Valkorion in the Santa suit,” asked the smuggler, her vision once again blurred by tears of mirth.

“One day you will ask me for help and I will do nothing,” Valkorion threatened darkly.

The smuggler snorted. “Sure. And leave me to die?”

“I shall intervene only after you are horribly disfigured—“

“Not a chance—“

“You will beg and cry pathetically—“

“—nothing but talk—“

“—and I will laugh,” finished Valkorion.

“Besides, I’ll have Empress Lana at my back,” she said and waved at said future Empress.

Lana waved drunkenly back before letting her head fall to the counter. She drooled a little.

“How terrifying,” drawled Valkorion, “If only I had created a bigger, better Empire to counter your Not-The-Sith-Empress.”

“How many empires do you have floating around,” she suddenly demanded as he looked shiftily about, “For that matter, am I your only host? ‘Cause I’m starting to wonder.”

The smuggler stopped suddenly with a realization. “Wait a minute… you showed yourself to _Arcann_.”

“And?”

The smuggler puffed up with indignation at a discovery more important than Valkorion’s many evil empires/hosts littering the galaxy.

“Which _means_ ,” she hissed, “You could’ve shown yourself to Senya and had that conversation, but you didn’t because you’re a typical MAN. Goddammit.”

Valkorion smirked.


End file.
